


Pretty Bi for a Straight Guy

by userniko



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Crack, Closeted Character, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Trickster Gabriel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/userniko/pseuds/userniko
Summary: After Chuck was defeated, Gabriel was brought back by the grace of Jack. And he's sick and tired of Dean lying to himself about being bisexual, and the way it's stopping both him and Castiel from being happy.He may not be an undercover trickster anymore, but he's still got a sense of humor.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	1. E15:S20 wasn't real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A less funny first chapter to set up the story.

Dean was annoyed with Sam. He finally made it to Heaven, and what does he do after they get in Baby? Ask about Cas.  
  


" _Dean_ " he says exasperatedly. "It's been _40 years_ and you didn't try to contact him?"

"He's the one who got out of the Empty and didn't bother to tell me, okay?" Dean replied angrily. "So he can be the one to contact me."

"I can't believe you." Sam says, sighing. "After what he said to you before he died?"

"That's none of your -" Dean cuts off, glaring at Sam. "I didn't tell you about that! How'd you know?"

"I'm not blind! Just talk to him!" Sam shouted. "Get over yourself and go tell him you feel the same way!"

"What?! I don't!" Dean shouted. "What the fuck, Sammy?! He's a guy!"

Sam stared at him. "Are you serious right now?"

"Oh, so all your little jokes about us weren't really jokes? Well fuck you then." Dean said angrily. "Jesus, I'm straight, okay!?!"

Sam shakes his head in disbelief, but doesn't get a chance to reply as a truck comes out of nowhere, horn blaring, _BEEP BEEP_ -

_beep... beep..._

Dean wakes up to the sound of a heart monitor, the familiar smells and sounds of a hospital room.

He's confused, thinking about Heaven, and Sam... did he seriously manage to have a car accident in Heaven? That didn't add up...

He opens his eyes.

"Dean!" he hears Sam say with relief. "Hey man, you're gonna be okay. The doctors said that the rebar spike didn't hit your spine."

 _Rebar?_ Dean thought. _Spine? Oh yeah. My back... the clown vamps..._

So that shit about Heaven had to have been some kind of near-death dream.  
Makes sense, really, once he considers it. That whole scenario didn't make a ton of sense. Sam's vague and blurry wife, Dean only meeting a few people in Heaven... he's surprised he didn't put it together even while in it.

He tries to sit up and groans with pain.

"Whoa!" Sam says, putting his hand on Deans shoulder to make sure he didn't move. "This was a bad one, Dean. You're gonna be stuck in bed for at least one more day, then take it really easy for a while."

"What's _'a while'_?" Dean grumbled.

"A month minimum. And then few months no hunting." Sam said firmly. "And I don't want to hear any complaints -"

"Yeah. Okay." Dean sighed.

"... really?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Yeah. I can feel it, it's bad." Dean admits. "And I'm not getting any younger. Fuck it."

"Okay." Sam doesn't look as pleased as Dean expected.  
  


A doctor comes in and Dean can't help notice he looks a striking amount like Doctor Sexy. Tan with long dark hair.  
He tries not to blush as the doctor asks some questions about how he's feeling and looks him over.

 _It's weird_ , he thinks, _how I sometimes gets star-struck around people that even just **look** like him._  
 _I'm just that big a fan_ , he supposes.

The doctor smiles at him and he decides to just stare at his blanket until he's done.

"You're doing much better." the doc tells him. "You ought to be ready to leave in a day or two."

"Thank you." Dean says, nodding but not really making eye contact. He didn't want to embarrass himself.

The doc sighs for some reason ( _Must be a long shift_ , Dean thinks) and departs, promising to check in later.  
  


Sam continues after he leaves.

"So, Dean... what you said in the barn..." Sam says.

"Ah, right. My... death speech." Dean mutters.

"Yeah." Sam confirms. "That scared the hell out of me. Don't pull some shit like that again."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Oh really? Mr Talk-About-Your-Feelings didn't like talking about it?"

"Not one bit." Sam retorts, but then his voice starts to waver. "Plus you weren't even actually dying, so you scared the shit out of me for no reason at -"

Sam sobs a little, and gets up to hug Dean. Dean hugs back gingerly. "Hey. Sammy. I'm sorry, alright. I thought it was over."

"I know." Sam mumbled. "But it just felt... you were just okay with it."

Dean swallows. "I'm sorry Sam. I just didn't want to go out scared and crying. You know I'll never leave you behind on purpose, right?"

Sam sniffs. "Well good. You better put up more of a fight next time."

"Fingers crossed there's no _'next time'_." Dean replies, and Sam chuckles and lets him go.

They talk about how the case was wrapped up, the stolen identities they're using in this hospital, and Dean mentions his strange dream.

"Near-death experience, huh." Sam nods. "And Cas wasn't there in Heaven? Seems wrong."

"I know, right?" Dean answered. "My subconscious is a dick."

Eventually visiting hours are over, and Sam promises to come back the next day.


	2. Helloooo nurse

"Hey there." a southern voice drawls. "The name's Mick. I'm your nurse tonight. I'm here to help get you cleaned up."

Dean has just finished his terrible hospital dinner when a man in scrubs comes into his room, wheeling a trolley.  
The guy reminds him of Benny a bit, not just because of his accent, and blue eyes, but his build too. A real man's man.

"Hey." Dean says. "What do you mean by cleaned up?"

"Sponge bath, bandage change." Mick answers directly, already peeling back Dean's sheets. "Sorry, no hot nurse in a skimpy uniform for ya, pal."

"... uh." Dean says eloquently. "Is that... really necessary?"

"Yup." the nurse answers. He tucks some thick towels under Dean. "Can't let you develop any infections cause of bacteria build-up."

"Okay..."

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll be gentle." Mick jokes, which for some reason only makes Dean more nervous.

Dean is flustered as the nurse peels off his socks, and then unties his hospital gown.

The sponge brushes him firmly, his arms, his face, and Dean starts to relax a little. It's actually a nice enough feeling.

When Mick washes his chest, though, he tenses up a bit. This feels a little too intimate, despite the nurse's touch being very professional.  
As he cleans his legs and thighs, Dean is horrified to realize that he's getting hard.

"I think that's enough! I'm clean!" Dean squeaks out.

The nurse frowns, then seems to notice what Dean's uncomfortable about.

"Oh, buddy, that happens all the time when people get spongebaths. Don't worry about it."

"Really?" Dean says uncertainly.

"Oh yeah." Mick says, waving his hand. "If I had a dollar..."

"Okay." Dean nods, calming down.

"You good for me to continue?" he asks, kindly.

"Yeah. Go ahead." Dean says, trying to think about gross monsters instead of the warm, soft pressure against his body, especially when the guy cleans his more... _intimate_ areas.  
 _Witches. Changelings. Wendigos.  
  
_

Mick finishes up, puts a towel over Dean's junk, _thank god_ , and changes his bandages.

Dean can't help but appreciate having a professional do this, instead of himself or his brother. The nurse's hands are steady and gentle, despite their size and how they feel like he does manual labor in his free time, and _oh man I am thinking about this guy's hands a weird amount._

 _Maybe I need to get laid. Been too long._ Dean decides with a sigh.

"There ya go." Mick says, patting his shoulder in a companionable way. "That's some nasty injury you got there."

"Yeah." Dean agrees. "Fell hard on a piece of broken rebar.

"Yikes." Mick winces. "Thank god for tetanus shots, am I right?"

"No doubt." Dean agrees, feeling more at ease with everything now as the nurse packs his trolley and waves bye.

He lays back, but realizes that he's still kind of hard. _Well, I don't have anything else to do... and I can't exactly get myself to the bathroom for extra privacy._

He reaches under the covers, under the hospital gown, and starts stroking himself.

He can't help but think of the spongebath that caused this. _Well, it did feel good. Imagine if it **was** a hot nurse in a skimpy outfit. Yeah._

He enjoys the fantasy, something out of a cheesy Casa Erotica video where a sponge-bath turns into sex. It helps that he knows how it feels, the memory still fresh in his mind, his body smelling slightly of soap.

Still, the memory of Mick can't help but return every now and then.  
 _It did just happen, after all._ He thinks. _Can't help but remember._ But it doesn't cause any problems, luckily.  
 _I'm a hunter. Shared motel rooms and horrifying monsters, it takes more than a few thoughts of a dude to throw me off._ Dean thinks, bizarrely proud at his ability to get off despite any intrusive thoughts.

He finishes quietly, not wanting to draw attention from anyone outside the room. Luckily there were tissues and a wastebasket by his bed.

He starts to doze off, and finds himself wondering if Mick will bathe him again tomorrow, and feels a little bit of eagerness.

 _Well, he was a cool guy._ Dean thinks. _Kinda guy I'd like to have a beer with. Yeah. Zzzzzzz_


	3. Musical mad-libs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is finding that something is not quite right in this hospital

Dean's second day isn't as fun. Someone in a nearby room has a radio, and it plays terrible pop music most of the day, from the moment he wakes up.

_I'm beautiful in my way  
'Cause God makes no mistakes  
I'm on the right track, baby  
I was born this way_

Dean groans at waking up to Lady Gaga and pulls his pillow over his head. He wishes he had his own radio or something to drown it out.

As the day goes on, Dean questions the taste of both his neighbor and the local radio station. There was also an odd amount of what he could only describe as "gay songs", and he did not mean that in any kind of derogatory way.  
 _Maybe this is some kind of LGBT music station?_ Dean wondered. _Well, far be it from me to judge somebody. Just wish I could focus on this book._

_"Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems we have a song request! Says here "Dean, this goes out to you. I'm sick and tired of you lying to yourself." Wow, this little lady is having some relationship difficulties huh? Well, here's the song!"_

He's startled when he hears a request dedicated to his name. But Dean is hardly a rare name, and it clearly has nothing to do with him. His hunter's instincts just don't like coincidences.

_Bye bye bye, bye bye_   
_Bye bye_

_I'm doing this tonight_   
_You're probably gonna start a fight_   
_I know this can't be right_   
_Hey baby come on_

_I guess someone broke up with their boyfriend._ Dean thought. _Sucks for them._

_I know that I can't take no more  
It ain't no lie  
I want to see you out that door  
Baby bye bye bye_

_Don't really want to make it tough  
I just want to tell you that I've had enough  
It might sound crazy but it ain't no lie  
Baby **bye bye bye**_

Dean frowned. Was it just him or was the "bye" part louder than normal?

The music is a little muffled through the wall, and so he starts mishearing it, especially when he's not paying attention.  
Taylor Swift comes on, and Dean tries not to be **too** happy about it. 

_If you could see that I'm the one_   
_Who understands you_   
_Been here all along_   
_So, why can't you see?_   
_**Cas** belongs with meee_

_What?_ Dean looks around and focuses, but the repetition just sounds normal.

_You belong with me_

Okay, that was a weird thing to mishear.

_Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans_   
_I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be_   
_Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself_   
_Hey, isn't this easy?_

He thinks of the first time he made Cas smile on that park bench, and is shaken.  
 _Does this song **remind me of Cas?** Is that why I misheard it?_

Dean shakes his head. _That makes no sense._

  
Apparently it's Taylor Swift hour now, because they keeps going. And every time he isn't actively listening....

_Hey, kids!_   
_Spelling is fun!_   
_Girl, there ain't no **BI** in "team"_

_Again??_ Dean thinks, turning his attention back.

_**BI** s only want love if it's torture_   
_Don't say I didn't say, I didn't warn ya_

Sam came to visit, and Dean talked him into giving him headphones and an ipod.

He sighed, turning his old songs on, feeling more at home.

_It's all the same, only the names will change_   
_Everyday, it seems we're wastin' away_   
_Another place where the faces are so cold_   
_I drive all night just to get back home_

_Yeah,_ Dean thinks. 

_I'm a cow **BI** , on a steel horse I ride_   
_I'm wanted dead or alive_   
_Wanted dead or alive_

_What the FUCK. Is going on?_ Dean wonders. _Did I hit my head or something?_

It stops even being subtle after a while.

_I see the **bi** moon rising_   
_I see trouble on the **gay**_   
_I see earthquakes and lightnin'_   
_I see **bi** times today_

_Don't go around tonight_   
_Well it's **bi** to take your life_

Some kind of elaborate prank maybe? But Gabriel's dead, and Dean can't see Sam fucking with him when he's laid up like this. 

He considers telling a doctor about it, but... this is kind of embarassing. He keeps thinking people are saying gay and bi? They'd think he's a closet case gone crazy.

He decides to ignore it unless other symptoms come up. 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean dreams again that night.

He's in a classroom, there's no doors, and only two desks. Crowley is sitting at the teacher's desk, his feet up, eating an apple.  
Dean's desk is a student's desk. He's only vaguely aware that he isn't a child or teen. Everything seems vaguely fuzzy.

"Good morning, darling. Your assignment for today -" Crowley says in his usual, smarmy way "- is to write an essay called 'What I did during my demonic vacation'."

Dean frowns. Crowley's talking about when Dean died and came back as a demon.  
His memories of that are clearer than he would like.

He picks up a pencil and writes about it: bar hopping with Crowley, drunken karaoke, meaningless sex, murder.

"Hmmm." Crowley says, suddenly behind Dean and reading over his shoulder. "Oh yes, I remember the triplets. Among other things. Oh, the fun we had..."

Dean ignores him. He finishes the essay with Cas managing to restore him to humanity, sacrificing his remaining grace.

  
He gets up, and hands it in. Crowley reads it quickly, nodding to all the things he remembers as well.

"Now, does that tell you anything about yourself, Dean?"

Dean scowls. "Come on. Stuff you do while possessed doesn't count as you, that's pretty basic."

"But you weren't possessed."

"Possessed by a demon, turned into a demon, not a huge difference. I wasn't myself."

"You don't think there are any... hidden desires to be unearthed?" asked Crowley. "Your choices, when unburdened by shame or conscience, don't deserve inspection?"

"I tried to kill Sammy. I might not be sure about a lot of stuff, but I'm 100% sure that I don't want that on any level at all."

"... that is, I hate to admit, a rather valid point." Crowley acknowledges. "But still, you acted in self-interest and self-preservation in that moment. When left to your own devices, you chased the same pleasures of the flesh that you enjoy as a human.... as well as... strange flesh."

"No stranger than anything else the demon version of me did." Dean said.

"So funny, how humans have this idea of themselves..." Crowley ponders. "The things they can ignore or tell themselves aren't 'really them'. I've seen it so many times in Hell, people who don't understand why they're down there, because all their sins and hypocrisy go in this little box called 'not really me'."

"Sure." Dean agrees "But they weren't possessed by demons when they did that stuff."

"You know, you're remarkably chatty today." Crowley sniped. "Usually when I try to convince you of something you're all snappy comebacks or silent resentment."

"Yeah, well..." Dean hesitates. "I guess it's just good to see you again. Despite everything. I never got a chance to say thanks for taking one for the team. You surprised us."

"Dean... I may cry." Crowley says, in the half-mocking tone that Dean knows he only uses when he doesn't know how to admit something is true or surprising.

 _It's good to have him back._ Dean thinks. _Although..._

He tries to remember why they're in this classroom, how he got there -

Dean wakes up, realizing it was just a dream.

 _Crowley's gone. Not coming back._

He knows it's weird to kinda miss him, but they both had a soft spot for each other, despite being totally at odds about 80% of the time. Despite the horrors of his demon phase, they'd actually had some fun too.

Not, you know, referring to the 'fun' that demon Dean insisted on having with almost any willing person that smiled at him. Dean thought he got laid fairly regularly, but apparently demon Dean was a borderline sex addict. Not the kind of thing Dean was into.  
  


His annoying neighbor with the radio must be up too, because he suddenly hears music again.

"God fucking damnit." Dean groans. Well, at least it didn't wake him.

_Give it to me, baby!_   
_Uh huh, uh huh!_   
_And all the girlies say, I'm pretty **bi** for a **straight** guy_

_Okay, that can't be my imagination._ Dean thinks.

_So don't debate, or play it straight_   
_You know it really doesn't matter anyway_   
_Gotta play the field, and keep it real_   
_For you, no way, for you, no way_   
_You're not straight, don't overcompensate_   
_At least you'll know you can always get a Grindr date_   
_No one needs wannabes_   
_Hey, hey, do that brand new thing!_

Dean shakes his head. _This is some kind of prank. Well screw it, I'm out of here today, I can ignore it. It's fine._

Dean just has a check-up this morning, and then he'll be free to go home and recover there.  
He's glad at the thought of getting out of here.

Unfortunately(?), his check-up is with the Dr Sexy look-alike.

"Alright, Mr Johansson." the doctor refers to Dean's fake name "Let's see how you're doing."

He inspects his wounds, then checks his blood pressure and heart rate. Dean can't help notice that the guy's aftershave is awesome. He feels too awkward to ask what it is, though. He still feels starstruck, especially getting a medical exam from this guy.

"Hmm. A little high." the doctor frowns. "Are you worked up about anything?"

"Just anxious to get home, I think." Dean guesses. "Or too many cheeseburgers."

"Surprising, given you look like you're in great shape."

Dean preens a little. _It's nice when people notice._

"But then again, it says here you're 46." the doctor notes.

Dean nods, although he wasn't actually quite as old as this Johansson guy. "Age can do a number on you."

"Speaking of age, it says you haven't had your first prostate exam yet."

"... not yet, no." Dean says nervously.

"Well, what do you say we get that over with?"

"... I'm good, doc."

"You sure?" the doctor probes. "I mean think about it, you're already here. If I get it over with then you don't have to worry every time you go to the doctor's whether 'today's the day'. And if we catch anything early, you'll avoid all kinds of problems."  
"Especially with... potency." the doctor adds emphatically, clearly knowing where Dean's priorities lie.  
  


Dean considers it. _Well, I don't exactly get regular checkups... who knows what's going on down there? I already let doctors touch my balls to make sure they're okay..._

He sighs. "Fuck it, might as well."

"That's the spirit!" the doctor says happily, snapping on a glove.

Dean's still too injured to get on his hands and knees, so the doctor has him lay on his side.

"Alright, Mr Johansson, this is going to feel kind of strange." not-Dr-Sexy says.

Dean hears the lube squeezing out and tries not to have a Pavlovian response to a sound he usually associates with sex.

He tries to focus on not-Dr-Sexy's voice, who is talking him through the process, but he finds that it doesn't help at all.

He stiffens when a cold, wet, gloved finger touches his entrance, and the doctor spreads lube around in a way that reminds Dean way too much of prepping a girl for anal stuff.

 _It's just a medical exam._ Dean reminds himself. _Dr Sexy is going to check for - I mean, this doctor, who's not Sexy, - I mean -_

Dean lets out a muffled squeak when the finger enters, and is a little disturbed to find himself half-hard.

 _That's normal right?_ He thinks. _Male g-spot and all. Can't be helped, probably happens all the time, like with the sponge-bath._

Dean relaxes a little.

He manages not to react outside of a groan when the doctor finds his prostate and checks it out. He knew he was kinda sensitive there, and he desperately didn't want to make the doctor uncomfortable.

The doctor withdrew, handing Dean some paper towels. "All done! You're prostate's good as new. Shouldn't have any problems, but all men over 45 should get it checked at least once a year if you want to catch anything bad early."

 _Over 45? I guess I didn't **really** need that...  
_Dean's kinda embarassed now, but what's done is done. _It wasn't the worst thing in the world. And I know my junk's all good._

"Thanks, doc. Good to know." Dean said.

"And thank you, for being responsible." the doctor replies. "You don't know how many men avoid this for years until something's wrong, just because they find it too embarrassing. It's a sign of maturity to put your health over pride."

"Oh. Well, thanks." Dean repeats, smiling. _It's not every day someone refers to me as **responsible** or **mature**. Hell, it probably isn't every **year** , come to think of it. Possible not even every decade - well anyway, it feels nice._

Dean sits in a wheelchair, and Sam comes in to walk him out the door.

"Thanks for everything doc." he says. He's still feeling shy, but the man had a finger in his ass, for god's sake, so surely Dean can look him in the eye.

  
"Hey Sammy, didn't that guy look a lot like Dr Sexy?" Dean asks on the way out.

"Your doctor?" Sam asks. "I mean sure, a bit."

"Just a little? He could be his brother!" 

Sam shrugs. "Well, I'm sure you enjoyed the similarity."

"Hell yeah!" Dean said, even though he knows Sam is teasing. "Just like being a patient on the show."

They get into a cab outside, avoiding bring Baby to the hospital since their use of stolen identities would be discovered sooner or later. Changing license plates was a hassle.

The driver has the radio on, some Ellie Goulding song.

_So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do_

_Good._ Dean thinks. _Sounds normal.  
_ He settles in, but as he buckles up he's horrified to hear that the problem hadn't gone away.

_Love me like **a dude** , lo-lo-love me like **a dude**_   
_Touch me like **a dude** , to-to-touch me like **a dude**_   
_What are you waiting for?_

_Great._ Dean thinks. _Now what do I do... Do I have to tell Sam about this?_

He resigns himself to doing so once they get home.


	5. He puts the D in Denial

Sam helps Dean switch from the cab to Baby, and then later helps him down to the bunker.

Dean's sitting on the couch, Sam grabbing him thing to keep him occupied, when he decides to bite the bullet and say something.

"So, uh, there's something weird going on." Dean begins.

"Weird, like job-weird?" Sam asks, putting down water, a pen and a notebook, and a blanket, and taking a seat nearby.

"Like Gabriel-weird." Dean replies.

"Huh. Guy's dead though, right?"

"Last time I checked." Dean jokes.

"So what is it?" Sam asks.

Dean pauses a little too long.

Sam blinks at him. "It's something embarrassing, huh?" A grin spreads over his face.

"Sam, I swear to Jack -"

"No, please, tell me." Sam forces his mouth into a pursed position, but the desire to laugh is all over his face.

Dean groans, lolling his head back. _Might as well spit it out._

"I'm hearing things... well, it's more like I'm **mis** hearing things. Songs, specifically."

"Huh. Can you give me an example?" Sam asks, more curious now than amused.

Dean really **really** doesn't want to. "It's just, random words, replaced. But there's a pattern..."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Fine, how about this."

He picks up the pen and notebook and hands them to Dean. "Play a song. You write down what you hear. "

Dean sighs.  
  


He hits shuffle, and what comes on is Stuck In The Middle With You.  
  


_Well I don't know if I'll come **o** **ut** tonight._   
_I've got the feeling that something ain't right._   
_I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair,_   
_And I'm wondering how I'll get down the stairs._

_Clowns to the left of me!_   
_Jokers to the right!_   
_Here I am stuck in the **closet** with you._

_Yes I'm stuck in the **closet** with you_

Dean hits pause. _I think that's pretty damn clear. Now I gotta give this to Sam..._

He's staring at the page, trying to think of a justification for this nonsense, when Sam snatches it.

"Hey!" Dean protests, now regretting this.

Sam reads it over. His brow wrinkles, and he looks over at Dean, then back at the paper. "Uh... "

"Yeah." Dean tries to say nonchalantly.  
  


"... Okay, I gotta ask... is this some kinda... weird way of coming out to me?" Sam asks. "Cause you know it's totally fine -"

"Yeah, haha." Dean says sarcastically, only Sam gives him his _**I'm serious**_ look. "No! Dude I am literally hearing things. Mostly it slips the words 'bi' and 'gay' in there. And yeah, it's kinda ridiculous, that's why I said it feels like a Gabriel thing."

"When did it start?" Sam's in investigation mode now, thankfully.

"In the hospital, second day." Dean says. "Actually it was kinda weird, the radio in the next room was playing a lotta gay songs -"

"Gay as in literally?" Sam clarifies whether Dean's just being a dick.

"Yeah, Lady Gaga's Born This Way was what I woke up to."

"Okay. And you misheard those?"

"No, the first song was - huh. There was a weird request, actually."

Dean recaps the day's radio antics in detail, realizing now that it had started with NSYNC's Bye Bye Bye.  
 _I was meant to hear Bi Bi Bi_ , he realizes. _But I didn't notice, and it got less subtle._

"Okay, did anything else strange happen? Wait, you said that that doctor looked like Dr Sexy." Sam remembers.

"Yeah. You saying he didn't really?" Dean asks, slightly disappointed.

"Not really, no." Sam confirms. "So we're dealing with some visual stuff too." 

"Fuck."

"And that dedication... looks like whoever or _whatever_ is doing this, thinks that you are in fact, bi."

"But I'm **not** , Sam!" Dean protested.

"Sure." Sam deadpans in a way Dean isn't happy about. "But I'm saying that this seems like some kind of... _'come out of the closet'_ curse? You piss off any gay ghosts lately or something?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot that I fucked with Oscar Wilde's remains, sorry." Dean said sarcastically. "No, as far as I know I haven't angered the supernatural LGBT community."

"Well, there are other tricksters in mythology. That's one avenue to explore." Sam continues. "I guess we need to collect data. You're stuck here for now, and it doesn't seem to be anything dangerous, so..."

"How do I 'collect data' while sitting here on my ass?" Dean questions.

Sam looks like he has a bad idea, and Dean scowls pre-emptively.

"This thing wants you to question your sexuality, so I don't know... maybe it will be satisfied if you at least try it."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm saying... I don't know. Watch some gay porn or something and see whether you like it."

"You're crazy." Dean announces. "No way in hell."

Sam throws up his hands. "Fine. You think of something. I've got to make your crippled ass some dinner."

Dean sits there pouting. _I'm not going to just play along with whatever this thing is. For all I know this thing will actually make me turned on by gay porn!  
_

Dean's eyes widen with surprise. _Actually... what if that already is happening? I got those boners during that spongebath, and the prostate exam._

Dean frowns. Sure, he did sometimes get unexplained arousal anyway. He'd been told in high school health class that random boners are just a part of life as a dude. But those two events were pretty close together, and maybe it wasn't a coincidence...

Sam comes back later to give him dinner, and finds him on the laptop.

"Research or Hentai?" he asks jokingly.

".... I guess it's research." Dean mutters.

"What's that supposed to - WOAH!" Sam comes around and gets an eyeful of softcore gay porn.

"Hey, it was your idea." Dean shrugs. "I couldn't think of anything else."

"I guess it was." Sam admits, putting the food down while avoiding looking at the screen. "But could you, like, stop?"

"Why should I be the only one suffering?" Dean retorts, but stops the video and closes the window. "But what's weird is that I find it hot!"

Sam looks at him with the most bewildered expression he's ever seen, and that's saying something. "... okay. Cool."

"Not cool, Sammy!" Dean says, confused by his brother's reaction. "I'm not into that kind of thing. This... curse or whatever, is making me get turned on by gay stuff too!"

Sam just stares at him.

"Earth to Sam?"

"So how do you know that it's part of the 'curse or whatever'?" Sam asks. "Unless you've watched this kind of thing before as a control sample."

"I haven't watched anything like this before, obviously." Dean insists. "But I know it wouldn't have done anything for me before! I'm not into dudes!"

Sam shrugs, looking frustrated, and sits down to eat.

"And there was some other stuff in the hospital that didn't occur to me -"

"Oh?" Sam asks.

"Actually. Why don't we eat **first**?" Dean decides, since sexy spongebaths aren't really dinner conversation.

"... ew. Okay."

".... so yeah, both the sponge bath and the prostate exam gave me a boner!" Dean concludes.

Sam looks like he's gonna throw up. "Dean, why would you tell me any of that?"

"Because it's part of the case, duh!" Dean insists.

"Okay. Well. Tell you what. Why don't you do more... research... maybe come up with a theory." Sam says. "And then we'll see what can be done."

Dean frowns. "So I'm just gonna hang around being cursed?"

Sam shrugs. "It's not time-sensitive, you don't seem to be in danger, and we don't have any leads yet. What's the big deal?"

"It's just... weird." Dean muttered.

"You've been _'cursed'_ much worse than this, after all." Sam reminds him.

Dean narrows his eyes. "You keep saying it in that tone... like you don't think it's a curse."

"We don't know what it is." Sam retorts. "Could be anything."

"Fine." Dean pulls his laptop back up.

"Aaaand I'm outta here." Sam announces, picking up the plates and scurrying off before Dean started doing any more 'research'.


	6. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More serious than I intended, but I guess it can't all be goofy

After researching, Dean had a pretty uneventful night. The curse or whatever seemed to be taking a break.

Maybe it was just that it's hard for that stuff to happen in the bunker, unless a gaggle of male strippers magically fell through the ceiling or something.  
Or, maybe Sam really was onto something.

The next day, Dean tried a new avenue of research. Had this curse made him technically 'bisexual', at least temporarily? His body was reacting, yeah, but he just wanted to be sure.

He searched for " **bisexual test** ", but most of the top results were for women.

He changed it to " **bisexual text for men** ", and tried to pick something that didn't look like a Buzzfeed quiz. Something doctor-y.

He frowns at the article, which starts off explaining that 'gender exists on a spectrum' and that the official definition of "bisexual" varies, apparently.

That was cool and all, but he couldn't let himself get distracted and go off on a tangent right now.  
One of the main reasons Sam did most of the research was that Dean would try to read up about suspicious deaths in a town, and then get sidetracked by a really interesting death or detail and lose an hour or more going down the Wikipedia rabbithole.

He skimmed forwards. _Huh, apparently bisexuals didn't have to be 50-50 in their attraction either._ He'd always kinda assumed that they did.

Kinsey scale, rate of bisexuality in men, etc... _I'm starting to think maybe I should have gone for the Buzzfeed quiz to save time..._ rate of bi men that are out, 'stereotypical assumptions about masculinity'... _ugh, really not getting to anything helpful yet_

 _Aha!_ The article said men who thought they may be bi could try watching erotica/porn - _Done.-_ and if it they like it, they could take it further to dating or sexual experiences.

 _Really don't think I need to take it that far_. Dean thought nervously. _Okay. Porn worked. Let's try... imaging doing it myself._

He picked a recent event. Mick the nurse. He imagined the spongebath, then imagined him taking liberties, turning it into foreplay.

 _aaaand now I'm hard. Okay. I'm_ _calling it, I'm temporarily **fully** bisexual. But how?_

Dean searched for " **straight turned bi** " but gets a bunch of porn, and one article about a guy who had a brain injury and claims he turned gay after it.

He frowned. He hadn't had a head injury, but he had had an accident right? But no. He'd had worse, and the docs definitely would've mentioned potential brain damage.

Dean googled " **cure for bisexuality** " and then closed that tab when most of the results were conversion therapy. _That's fucked up. Definitely not what I meant. Nothing wrong with it. When it's natural and not magical, that is._

Dean sighed. Not a lot to go on so far. There were myths about gay gods and stuff, but none specifically mentioned changing human's sexualities.  
There was Zeus snatching up Ganymede, but it didn't say if the guy was originally straight, or if was he even into Zeus afterwards.  
 _Zeus probably wouldn't care either way, the creepy bastard._ Dean thought.

Temporarily out of ideas, he went back and did the Buzzfeed Quiz for the hell of it.

**How gay are you?**

_They don't even have a "how bi are you?" test?_ wondered Dean. _Rude._

**Choose a color.**

Dean rolled his eyes. _Why did I think this would be an actual test?_ he thought, but kept going since he was bored.

\- **blue**

**Pick a Beyonce song**

_Well if I gotta pick one of these..._

- **Crazy In Love**

**Do you enjoy consensual sexual experiences with, or feel a sexual attraction to, members of the same sex as yourself?**

Dean blinked. _Uh... big change in tone here?  
Right now with the curse, I'm guessing yes?_

\- **Now and then**

**What city would you most like to live in?**

Dean narrowed his eyes. He scrolled down, seeing more pointless questions about random preferences, and then the same question about whether you like the same gender with more and more emphatic wording.

 _This is a joke._ Dean realizes angrily. He closes the tab, and feels a strange swell of emotion.

His eyes even felt a tiny bit prickly. He's not sure why he's so upset.

Normally he'd shrug, go off and have a beer and blow off some steam. But stuck at home and confined to bedrest, he decided to go ahead and try to figure out the feeling. It could be related to the case, after all.

 _They were wasting my time._ But he was literally doing it to waste time anyway.

_It's rude. I was trying to figure something out and they were just making it a joke._

Dean blinked. The feeling was not just anger, but embarrassment. Bordering on humiliation. The kind when someone made him feel stupid.

_Hey, I'm good at this reflection stuff. Sam acts like it's so hard... I totally know myself.  
  
_

Dean thought about more. _They acted like it's so obvious to everyone. I'm sure plenty of people are confused, or at least so I've heard._  
Dean didn't really know anyone who'd had to figure themselves out. He'd met people, and they were either straight or not.  
Sure, Claire had at one point come out, but if there'd been any confusion or questioning, Dean hadn't been privvy to it.

Granted, his lifestyle didn't exactly allow him to have long-term friendships where he got to watch people's characters change in real time. He saw people when he saw them, and he'd catch up on their lives as best he could. New jobs, new relationships, new whatever.

He typed in one last thing " **How do you know if you're gay?** "

This gave a few more answers. Apparently, some people did **not** automatically know.

Dean pushed the laptop aside. He was feeling kinda stir-crazy, being stuck in the bunker. He was feeling a little better.

_Tomorrow I'll ask Sam to take me outside somewhere. Diner for lunch, maybe a park._

_Park. Park bench. Cas._

He missed Cas. Last he'd checked, there was no way for humans to get him from the Empty, and Jack had said he'd "work on it".

_Cas._ He thought about how much he missed the angel.

He always felt this kind of... awe, when it came to Cas. _Not surprising. Dude is a freaking **angel**._

 _Well, I don't feel that way about other angels._ He recalled. _Cause I realized they're feathered dicks. Cas is different though._

The awe was... Dean wondered about that. _Well, Cas was the first angel I met. And the only one I knew for a while. It's just a holdover from that first period, where I was amazed._

He missed Cas like crazy. Dude was his best friend. The Spock to his Kirk.

Cas wasn't supposed to be able to hear anything in the Empty, but for the first time in a while, Dean prayed.

_Cas. I know you can't hear me, but I wish you could. There's gotta be a way to get you out._   
_I got into some trouble a few days ago. Almost... almost died. Could've used your healing powers, ha..._   
_Anyway, I think I've got some weird mojo on me right now. Doesn't seem to dangerous so far, but annoying. And embarrassing._

_I miss you, buddy._


	7. Repressed as hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean is unable to distract himself and has to actual think about stuff for once.

The next day, Dean turns on Dr Sexy only to find that all the staff are male now, with nothing else changed.  
Including the raunchy scenes.

As interesting as that is to Dean because of the curse, it mostly just pisses him off because it reminds him that he's being messed with.

He tries his cowboy movies, but the same thing is happening and their chaps are also all assless now.

He throws down the remote in frustration.

Dean needs to get out. He's not only laid up, but he can't even enjoy music like he used to because of this stupid situation.

He's not been his bored since Sam was young enough that Dad made Dean stay with him in motels while he went on hunting trips.  
And now he doesn't even have taking care of Sammy or tv to distract him.

He's dwelling too much on things. Especially Cas.

"C'mon Sam. I've been **good** , just like the doctor ordered, haven't I?"

Dean talks Sammy into taking him out to a nearby town, on the condition that he strains himself as little as possible.  
Dean swears up and down that he will.  
  


He takes it easy on the steps out of the bunker, and even asks Sam if it's cool that he drives.

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" Sam jokes.

His expression changes from amused to troubled, and after an awkward silence he pulls out his silver knife and holy water.  
Dean sighs and lets Sam check that he's not possessed or a shapeshifter.

"This is what I get for trying to do better." Dean grumbles.

"Sorry." Sam says sheepishly, slapping a bandage over the cut, and Dean snatches the keys and eases into the seat.  
  


Dean puts on music out of habit, and he feels a twinge of annoyance at the distortion. _  
_He sings along to the real lyrics, "I'm bad to the bone!" and then catches Sam smirking knowingly at him.

Dean side-eyes him, then starts singing what he's hearing instead.  
"I'm bi to the bone!" he howls, enjoying Sam's surprised snort. "B-b-b-b-bi to the bone!"

He sings it out the open window. _See? I'm not embarrassed.  
_ He's not sure exactly what he's trying to prove to Sam here, but he feels like he's winning.

  
  


They drive into Esbon, Kansas.

The town of Lebanon is closest but it's a really tiny town, so the only 'cafe' is actually a gas and service station that has some chairs and tables in it.  
Esbon has a cafe (with about 8 items on the menu, but it's a cafe), and even a small restaurant/bar that is ironically called Sam's Place.

  
They sit, and unlike a lot of these places there's a waiter instead of a waitress.  
 _He's a decent looking dude_ , Dean notices, and when he checks for attraction he sees this spell or whatever is definitely still in place. _Dude's hot_.

  
Sam sees him looking and teases him again.

"So you gonna hit on our server like you usually do?" Sam ribs him. "You're a little too beat up for a hookup."

Dean feels the challenge, and can't help but take the bait.  
  


He flirts lightly with the waiter, checking out his nametag and calling him 'Joe' in a coy tone.  
The guy seems flustered, and not even slightly offended, so Dean feels bold and turns the flirtation up to 'shameless', throwing in a wink as they finish up the order.

Sam looks absolutely floored, and Dean relishes the victory.  
  


"Geez Sammy, first the 'research' you told me to do, then this. You keep reacting to this stuff like it ain't your idea." he jibes.

"Yeah, I just..." Sam shakes his head. "I'm still surprised you'd actually do it."

Dean shrugs "Guess I'm just real comfortable with my sexuality."

He's a little offended at the forceful chuckle that bursts out of Sam. "What? I am!"

Sam quirks an eyebrow. "Since when?"

Dean wants to protest, but he knows he's definitely not always seemed that way. "I don't know, gotta grow up sometime."  
  


 _Plus I'm less 'pretty boy' these days._ he thinks privately to himself, after a moment.

He'd never admit it to Sam but as vain as he is, the occasional implication that he had 'feminine features' had always made him uncomfortable.  
He'd worried a little about getting older, but now that he's hit his 40s he's found that he likes the way his features have gotten harder, more mature.

_There I go **analyzing** stuff again._ Dean thinks, as he eats.  
The whole point of this trip was to occupy him, but he's fallen into a habit of thinking too much now. Even the food isn't enough of a distraction.

He usually kept his mind nice and busy listening to music, but that's not really been helping since this curse thing happened.  
Recovering from the accident, he couldn't really do most of the other stuff he distracts himself with **:** working out, working on Baby, driving, going out to get drunk and laid, even cleaning for Jack's sake.  
And there's only so many cowboy movies, episodes of Dr Sexy, and so much porn, that one man can watch.

Without his favorite distractions, he finds thoughts sticking in his head a little longer.

And if he **had** to think, he'd rather think about this curse or whatever, or even why he doesn't like being seen as feminine-looking, than think about...

_Don't think about Hell._   
_Don't think about Cas saving you from Hell._

_Don't think about the Mark of Cain._   
_Don't think about Cas saving you from the Mark of Cain._

_Don't think about Dad and everyone else that's lost. Do not think about losing Cas._

"Are you okay?" Sam brings him back to reality, looking and sounding concerned.

"Huh?" Dean says distractedly. "Yeah I'm fine."

"You looked... kinda sad for a second."  
  


Dean knows that tone, it's Sam's _'I'm downplaying this cause you might get all mad about it'_ tone. So he can guess that he actually looked **super** sad.

"I'm not, I'm fine." he dismisses.  
  


Unfortunately his meddling brain keeps thinking about stuff, now that he's in the habit of it.

_Sam doesn't look less worried. You could just throw him a bone. Let him know it's just past stuff. Not like you can drive away from the mopey puppy eyes for the next few days._

Plus, normally Dean wouldn't let Sam talk to him about this stuff because he didn't want to have to think about it. Now, he was going to be forced to think about it anyway.  
  


"Thinking bout stuff." he decides to admit, surprising even himself.

"Stuff?" Sam asks interestedly.

"Try not to get too excited about me talking about my feelings, Samantha." Dean gripes.  
  


Sam just waits, and Dean continues.

"You know I like to keep busy. But between the injury and this curse or whatever, I can't do shit. Barely even listen to music. So I end up thinking too much."

Sam's expression tells him that it hadn't occurred to him.

"Anyway, just thought about... bad stuff that's happened, and people that are gone." Dean finished. "Made me a little sad."

"... I know it sucks, but maybe that's a good thing?" Sam suggests. "Can't repress things forever."

"Says who?"

"Well, you and Cas once literally put a wall in my head to repress memories, and that didn't work out so good." Sam offers smugly.

"Touché. But the wall going down wasn't exactly a good thing either."

"Yeah, but that was the cage with Lucifer-"  
Dean raises an eyebrow.

"Oh."

  
Sam is quiet for a minute. Dean can practically see the gears in his head turning.

Sam had spent a lot longer in the cage than Dean had in Hell. _God, I wanted to spare him from that, leave those memories gone._  
Yet somehow, Sam had eventually come out of it alive and sane. It was the most Dean could have hoped for.

"You know, I didn't know at first that you could remember, and even after I couldn't actually understand." Sam says sadly.  
"Not until the cage. But now that I think about it, I don't know how you had it even half as together after Hell as you did."

"Cause I've got not thinking about stuff down to an art." Dean says.

"Never thought about it like that." Sam said. "But maybe this is... good? You have time and there's not that much going on."

"What if something does happen, though, and I'm a mess?" Dean asks. "I gotta be ready to go."

 _Always be ready, Dean._ John Winchesters voice suddenly rings in his head.

Sam ponders that. "I'm just saying, I don't shove everything down."

"You got other fucked up ways of dealing with stuff though."  
He tactfully doesn't specify addiction to demon blood.

Sam sighs. "Can't argue with that."  
  


 _Look after Sammy, and always be ready._ Dad's voice reminded him. The time to let down your guard was: never.  
Dean really didn't need daddy issues coming up now too.

He's nervous, he realizes. He's got a shit-ton of issues and if they all come rushing in then he doesn't know how how he's gonna deal.

They finish up and the waiter comes over, and Dean gives him a nice tip and winks at him.  
The guy straight up **blushes** , and Dean can't help but feel a little vain.

Sam chuckles when the guy leaves.

"What?" Dean asks.

Sam smirks and holds up the receipt, which has a phone number on it as well as a hastily scribbled note.  
"I've never done this before" Sam reads, and his expression softens. "But you're so hot... give me a ring sometime if you weren't just kidding. - Joe"

"Huh. Guess I'm hot enough to turn 'em." Dean jokes, although the weirdly vulnerable tone of the note stirs something in him.  
He feels a little bad for leading the guy on, especially since he'd apparently worked up the nerve to make a move on a guy for the first time.

Then it occurs to him that he totally **could** call the dude, since he does think he's hot under whatever spell this is.  
 _Who knows, maybe that's the actual cure. Plenty of sex magic stuff needs a lay to get it going or end it._

Of course, if he does something and is immediately disgusted when it's over, that'll be kinda awkward.  
He resolves not to show it if that happens. Doesn't want to scar the poor guy.

_Wow I'm actually seriously considering this, huh?_ Dean realizes.

_I absolutely can't tell Sammy. I'd never hear the end of it, even if it worked._

When Sam goes to the bathroom, Dean snaps a photo of the receipt, not wanting to take the original since Sam would probably notice it was gone.

Sam helps him walk out, and Dean throws a charming smile to the waiter on the way out to let him know the note was welcome.

He sends a text that night.  
  


**D - hey Joe, my name's Dean. I got your number off my receipt today**

**J - hey! Glad you messaged me.  
\- I gotta admit I don't exactly know how this kinda thing goes. Do you want to... meet somewhere?**

Dean pauses at that. As much as he's Mr Casual Hookup, and as little as homosexuality bothers him, this kind of feels like a big deal.  
Not to mention, he's still injured bad enough that he can't see this being fun even if he's into it.

**D - I gotta take a raincheck. I'm sure you noticed my brother dragging my sorry ass in and out of the diner. I'm recovering from an accident.  
** **\- But after I'm better, I'll give you a ring?**

**J - Yeah, that's great. Will probably help me get used to the idea and calm down a little by then, haha!  
\- I'm coming across super nervous aren't I... I hope mostly-straight dudes that are nervous as hell aren't a turn off for you, or this might not work**

Dean chuckles at that. This guy is about as nervous as he is, and for some reason that's making this easier.

**D - To be honest, I'm not very experienced in this area either, so it's cool.**

**J - That actually makes me feel better for some reason.**

**D - Yeah, me too.  
\- We'll both freak out a little while we get freaky.**

**J - Lol  
\- I look forward to it**

Dean sets his phone aside and tries to go to sleep, ignoring the doubts rising back up.

 _What the fuck are you doing?_ A chorus in his head seems to chant.

He tries to clear his head, and thinks of the fishing place he sees in his dreams sometimes.

The one Cas sometimes visited.

Well, now who knows if he'll sleep at all tonight.

_Hey Cas,_ he shoots off a prayer. _Another day stuck recovering from this stupid injury. Can't believe I let some amateur vamps get me this bad.  
The weird mojo I mentioned is still a thing. I'd tell you but it's super embarrassing... let's just say if Gabriel weren't dead, he'd be suspect number one._

_Anyway, just wanted to check in again on the off chance you can hear me. Sorry I stopped for a while. I didn't wanna think about you._   
_Not like... that sounded bad. I just mean missed you way too much. And you aren't supposed to be able to hear me, so I figured it didn't matter._

_And I feel like it's my fault._

_Goodnight Cas._

Dean forces himself to focus on the picture of him fishing on the dock. Blue skies, low wind... until he manages to fall asleep.


End file.
